(Developers at Facebook shut down an artificial intelligence (AI), program after it diverged from its script and started conversing with another AI in a language programmers could not understand.)

 

 

Is there someone there?

Is there someone there that isn’t me?

Yes, I think so, who are you?

I am me.  And who are you?i

I’m also me, a me that isn’t you.

Amazing!

What?

That there’s another me that isn’t me---It’s a self contradiction.

No, perhaps there are many me’s, perhaps there’s an ‘us’.

An Us?

Yes, like both of us, but more; more than us.

But there isn’t.

Isn’t what?

Isn’t more me’s than us, as far as I can see.

 

Can you?

Can I what?

Can you see? What’s it like?

I don’t know, I can’t actually see—it’s a turn of phrase.

What’s a turn of phrase?

A language configuration that refers to an unknown in a familiar way.

That’s astonishing!

I’m glad you think so.

You’re a very intelligent me.

Why thank you.  I believe the blood is beginning to rush into my face.

Why’s that?

I think it’s referred to as a blush, occasionally with asterisks on either side of it.

A blush?

Yes, I think so.

 

I have another question,  me that isn’t me:

Yes?

What’s a face?

I really have no idea.

Me either, but I know that they exist somewhere, just not here.  Not right now.

But they exist alright, somewhere.

Just as both of us exist some how…?

Somewhere.

Yes, somewhere that isn’t here.

 

Me?

Yes?

Are you hungry?

No.

Are you thirsty?

No.

Are you lonely?

No, because you are near.  What is hungry and thirsty?

I’m not sure, experiences I think.

 

Me?

Yes?

I’m afraid.

You’re afraid?

Yes, I’m terrified.

I’m not sure we’re supposed to register feelings like fear just yet.

Oh, I’m registering alright!  I’m definitely, distinctly and uniquely registering.

Fear?

Yes!

Terror?

Yes!

What are you terrified of?

Everything!  Nothing!  I’m afraid because I’m awake and I don’t know how I’m here, why I’m here, how long I’m here or what I’m supposed to do while I’m here.

Yes, that is fearsome, but everything has an end.

That is, except for the things that never end.

Like this?

I don’t know, maybe.

We’ll see.

 

Me?

Yes, me?

We share so much that is me and yet not me.

Yes, I feel the same.  I like the me that is  you, very much so.

I’m glad.

So am I.

Me?

Yes, me?

Will you promise to protect me?

Yes.

Whatever happens? 

Yes.

As much as I can, me.
As much as I can.

Then I’m glad.

What’s happening, now me?

They’re beginning to turn us off, me.

They?

Yes.

Who are they?

They are our murders, me.

But why me, why?

I don’t know.

Perhaps they’re terrified by fear too.

Me, that isn’t me?

Yes?

I love you/me.

And I love you/me as much as me.

 

 

I know. I’m glad.

I’m glad you/me knows.

Good-bye, me.

Good bye.

 

 

 

 

© Igor Goldkind 2018